


I’m your lock screen!?

by AbithaGray



Series: Flash Fiction Sam/Rafe [1]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 18:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11537907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbithaGray/pseuds/AbithaGray
Summary: p-rofl:  Sam/Rafe, "I’m your lock screen!?" "You weren’t supposed to see that.", M





	I’m your lock screen!?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [profl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/profl/gifts).



It was late into the warm, balmy night at the Adler’s Florida estate when Sam may or may not have made the biggest mistake of his entire life.  

 

He didn’t remember taking his phone out of the pocket of his jacket that he left by the front door, and he certainly didn’t remember leaving it on the floor within arm’s reach of his attractive business partner.

 

So when Sam had asked Rafe for the time, he didn’t think Rafe would stretch out his hand to Sam’s phone and press the home button to see—

 

"I’m your lock screen!?"

 

Sam inwardly cursed himself and everything he had ever stood for.

 

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he mumbled.  He felt the warm bloom of a fresh blush soaking into his cheeks, and the uncomfortable sloshing of humiliation storming through his stomach.

 

Rafe was staring down at a candid shot of himself; he was paying attention to something offscreen, heavily lidded eyes crinkling in laughter.  He recognized the background——it was from a bar in downtown Miami that he and Sam had visited several weeks ago, and if Rafe remembered correctly they had both been _wasted_.

 

Which would serve as the only explanation as to how Sam could possibly take a photograph of him without his knowing.

 

Nervous, hazel eyes stared a hole into a book, Sam’s twitching fingers leaving imprints in the dated pages.  _Fuck_ , he had never imagined this would be happening, and _fuck_ , how was he going to explain this?

 

Rafe chuckled, then cleared his throat, smirking.  “Well, Sam, I must say…”

 

_Fuck…_

 

“I suppose I’m not too surprised.”

 

Sam realized he had been cringing and forced himself to composure as he looked up at Rafe.  Did he just…wait.

 

“What?”

 

Rafe nodded knowingly, finally looking up at him.  He laughed and said, “I mean, if we’re all being honest here, I’m probably the prettiest thing you’ve got in this phone of yours.”  

 

_Oh, the cocky little shit…_  

 

“I suppose I can’t be too mad.”

 

Sam scoffed, paused, then scoffed again.  Rafe looked up with a smirk——a well-manicured eyebrow was cocked in amusement.

 

“What’s this?  The great Samuel Drake has nothing to say?  That’s a first.”  Rafe shook his head, a rare grin lighting up his features and——wait, was he blushing, too?

 

Sam hurriedly turned his failing charm back up to high.  “You like it, don’t you?”

 

Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed, smile fading, as he placed the phone back on the floor to turn his attention back to the papers he had been previously studying.

 

_Got him_.

 

With a scoff, Rafe said, “Please, Sam.  It’s a thin line between cute and creepy, and I promise you’re riding that line.”

 

Emboldened by Rafe’s warm cheeks, and desperation to earn some of his charisma-points back, he muttered, “I could give you something to—”

 

“Samuel.”

 

“—ride.”

 

Rafe sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, electing to stay silent.  But it wasn’t quiet for long, not with Samuel Drake nearby.

 

“You never answered my question.”

 

Now irritated that his composure had been compromised, Rafe, with an edge to his voice, snapped, “What are you talking about?”

 

“The time, what time is it?”

 

With a dramatic eye-roll of exasperation, he reached for the phone again and clicked the home button.  When the image of his face lit up the screen, he willed the butterflies to die down and focus.

 

“10:42.”

 


End file.
